


The Woman on the Edge of Two Universes

by yanderekirklandchan



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: 1930s, Depression, Domestic and fluffy, F/M, Gay Spock, Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of Eating Disorder, Multi, Self Harm, Spock-centric, TOS spoilers, The City on the Edge of Forever, Time Travel, alternate version of original episode, drug usage, spock needs a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-01-15 07:53:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12316911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanderekirklandchan/pseuds/yanderekirklandchan
Summary: A Star Trek reboot version of TOS episode 'The City on the Edge of Forever' (spoilers for this episode). A medical accident and a strange time divergence leaves Spock stranded alone in 1930 America. Penniless, alone and getting sicker every day, Spock has to survive and try not to change the course of history. Spock-centric.





	1. Medical catastrophe

The Enterprise shook harshly, throwing its inhabitants around like coffee beans in a grinder. Within the chaos and shouting that had his sensitive ears rendered useless, Spock’s sharp sight picked up on the potentially disastrous way McCoy’s medical equipment was precariously angled.

“Doctor, watch out!” He exclaimed, making a motion to move Leonard’s arm so that there was no chance of any harm coming to anyone.

However, another shake of the ground combined with the forward thrust use of his motion force had him toppling over right onto the cordrazine. The Captain’s quick reaction of catching his arm prevented him from getting too much into his system but Spock could already feel a cool rush within his veins followed by a slight heat and numb feeling that certainly meant his body had already taken some into its system.

While cordrazine was a useful medical substance this was neither necessary nor a controlled dosage. These things were for him to worry about privately, however, not bring to the attention of his human, therefore prone to illogical worry, colleagues.

“Mr Spock? Are you okay, did any of it get into you?” Kirk said, blue eyes dark with concern.

Spock tried to give him a warm, reassuring look with his eyes while very deliberately ignoring the stabbing pain that was now increasing in his abdomen.“Affirmative, Captain, however it was not the whole vial thanks to your intervening.”

He focused on the positives, not lying but distracting from the alarming truth. Spock convinced himself that it was for the best, right now the Captain needed to lead a panicking team not worry about him unnecessarily.

There was a look of relief in Jim’s eyes, his face visibly relaxing for a moment before hardening again to form the mask of a leader. “That’s good, we really should have it checked to avoid any complications though. Bones, you alright?”

Said man looked shaken but nodded “I’m alright, Jim, we’d better get Spock to sickbay though, that stuff isn’t to be messed around with.” Spock was sure that all the control in the world couldn’t hide his displeased reaction at the idea from his two close friends.

“He’s right, Spock,” agreed a smiling Jim “Surely you can see the logic behind it.”

Spock conveyed his indigence through eyebrow motion alone “What would be logical, Captain, is for me to continue working since I am fully functioning and able.”

Jim shook his head, chuckling to himself and seeming to decide better of continuing the conversation “Very well, Mr Spock. Anyway, as I was saying prior to disruption, we’ve got a lock into the coordinates of the readings, they appear to be coming from that planet’s surface. Spock, McCoy, Uhura, Scottie report to the transporter room to beam down with me. Sulu, you take the chair, we’ll keep you guys updated with what’s happening.”

With that, everyone got into motion, McCoy, Kirk and Spock walked down together. Leonard looked half anxiously at Kirk “Jim, I don’t think Spock should be taking part on a landing party when we don’t know how his body is reacting to that cordrazine!” He exclaimed.

Jim looked at him seriously then Spock before sighing “I know. But Spock doesn’t seem to be reacting badly, he clearly wants to continue working and this should just be a brief mission. Check it out, take a few readings, we can transport straight back up if something happens to him.”

Spock mused that if he was more emotionally inclined he would feel victorious. McCoy, on the other hand, didn’t look pleased “You’re just thinking about how you wish I’d let you continue working when I put you on sick leave.”

Jim flashed him a lopsided grin “You know it, Bones. Besides, we don’t need to worry Spock’s got you to look after him.” McCoy took the compliment, probably having learnt from past experience that it was the best he was going to get. The landing party stood in the proper places in the transporter room and were transported to the world below.

Spock, upon materialising, instantly started to survey the surroundings. “Captain, the readings appear to be coming from this way. They’re… strange.” His eyebrows twitched into a Vulcan frown, having forgotten the potentially harmful substance coursing through his veins now that he was distracted with work.

Jim frowned too “Strange how?” He asked, walking in the direction Spock had indicated. “Well, Captain, it’s not following the laws of science in any way I can understand.” As an odd arch appeared in their eyesight, Jim walked cautiously up to it “Is this the source, Spock?” Said man took repeated readings “Indeed, Captain.”

The landing party approached, eyes widening with disbelief as the arch, which appeared to be both alive and machine, displayed images of their own Terran past. “What is this?” Jim said, eyes narrowed suspiciously although it was clear that he was in awe of the sight. “This is your past.” The arch replied simply and rather annoyingly. Jim huffed, half indignant half a breathy laugh “Yes, but… why? Why show us images of our own ancient history?”  
“I am not showing you images of your history I am showing you your history.”  
“You mean to say… that this is some sort of gateway to the past?” Kirk asked curiously and confused.

Fascinating. Spock strode slightly closer, tricorder extended to take readings of this so called time travel. It was then that the cordrazine decided to make itself known again. Spock cried out in pain and shock as an intense burning shocked though his body which became weak and trembling afterwards. It was with a light head and fuzzy consciousness that Spock vaguely registered himself getting closer and closer to the image in the arch then his scenery changing entirely. He, however, did not get to register when his body hit the ground with a painful thud.

In the midst of the swirling darkness that was consuming him, Spock thought he heard a distant voice calling his name.


	2. The 1930s Cell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to explain the tags, it's AOS (although I suppose if you really wanted to you could pretend it was TOS even though it has reference to Vulcan's destruction) but I've tagged it as TOS too because it's based on one of the episodes (it's really good you should watch it). Anyways, I should be updating weekly (at least) and I hope you enjoy this!

Spock shivered uncontrollably, his body was burning and yet he was freezing at the same time. He felt agony, no limb was spared it. He was not conscious and yet he was not allowed the mercy of unconsciousness, forced to suffer in a confused state of disorientation and pain.

He heard screaming, a truly desperate and agonised sound. It was so close that it hurt his ears. Why wouldn’t the screaming stop? His throat burned. Spock alternated from bad to even worse, sometimes agony was all he could feel and his vision has veiled with green and black spots, sometimes he could not even remember that he was a being at all, all he could comprehend was pain. At any cost he could not tell how much time had passed or where he was.

He was hopeless; he didn’t know where he was, what was happening or how to escape, to make the pain stop. For once he let himself feel desperation.

And the worst wasn’t the physical pain, it was the mental. The sheer anxiety and panic, the sense of certain doom. He had to escape. The murderers! The killers! They were coming… he couldn’t… he didn’t... he would not let them kill him! He’d kill them first! Spock let out a guttural cry, thrashing against the invisible chains that bound and broke his body.  
*******  
Jim stared, eyes wide with horror. The horror hadn’t even caught up to him completely, the abrupt shock of the situation had him half expecting everything was still fine. But of course it was not and the bitter guilt, knowledge that this was his fault, seeped slowly through him like a toxic poison. He let out a staggered breath, staring at the place his friend had been seconds before.

“Jim-”

“You don’t have to say it, Bones, I know. You were right, I should have listened to you. If I’d listened to you nothing would have gone wrong.” Jim said, his voice cold and detached, surprising him. Maybe this was what Spock always felt like, keeping obviously explosive and passionate emotions restrained within him while ever maintaining an emotionless façade. Oh Jim would never forgive himself if Spock did not return safe and well.

McCoy’s expression was one of pity “Jim, I wasn’t going to say-”

“Yeah, I know, Bones, but it still applies. I fucked up, and Spock’s the one who’s paying the price.” Jim sighed wearily, running his palms over his eyes “Spock should be in sickbay right now but he’s stuck alone in the past in goodness knows where, unconscious and sick and unable to take care of himself let alone defend himself.”

“Well, when you say it like that it does sound pretty bleak. But, kid, it’s still not your fault, not at all.” Bones assured, attempting to calm his friend.

“Yeah, well even then I’m acting Captain and the safety of my crew is my responsibility.”

Bones sighed, seeing Kirk was clearly convinced firmly that this was somehow his doing “Okay, Jim,” he said in his best, soothing doctor and friend voice “But Spock will be okay. We’ll get him safely back to his rightful time and into the sickbay so he can recover from that dosage of cordrazine. Okay? No need to panic. Especially not when we have a mission to complete, eh Captain?”

Jim gave his old friend a small smile “Indeed, Doctor. And; me? Panic? Never!”

Bones chuckled and grasped Jim on the shoulder, the two sharing a comforting smile in the face of whatever was to come.  
*******  
Spock’s eyes shot open in a sudden motion, his whole body jerking upright. The pain disappeared as quickly as it came, Spock being left numb, cold, shaking but comprehending again. He was not overly relieved, however, as an analysis of his body told him he was currently clear minded and overall okay but it would not last and the drug was by no means gone from his body. As a matter of fact, he seemed to have had an adverse reaction to it. A product of his bi-species heritage, no doubt. There was a reason that Doctor McCoy only used a few trusted medical supplies on him after all.

He groaned; a very un-Vulcan action however he thought the situation granted it. Blinking owlishly, his vision slowly clearing, Spock took in his surroundings. To his surprise and fascination he appeared to be in a remarkably accurate replication of an approximately 1930s Terran prison cell.

Not only was he locked in a small cell but his wrists and ankles were encircled with metal restraints. He tested them and was surprised to find them of average Terran strength. Whoever had imprisoned him either did not know of Vulcan strength or did not truly intend to restrain him. In case it was the former, Spock decided against breaking out straight away. He would assess his captors and wait for the most logical time to escape.

He didn’t have to wait long for someone to appear; merely five minutes after his regaining consciousness Spock could hear heavy footsteps walking up to his cell door. He curled into a defensive but not too obvious stance as the heavy looking door opened. A man, Terran Spock concluded, dressed in old-Earth police clothing, stood strictly in the door. “Come with me, kid. We’ve decided to go easy on you but don’t make this difficult or we might reconsider.” Deciding that was a rather logical course of action, Spock complied.

The chains around his ankles and wrists were taken off and replaced with a single pair of handcuffs before Spock was marched down a cold, grey, empty corridor. “We put you in one away from the others cus you wouldn’t stop screaming.” The apparent police officer explained. Spock remained silent, a very human feeling of embarrassment filling him at the idea that he’d been screaming and worse still people had witnessed it.

He was pushed roughly into a room that had another police officer like the one he was with and an additional man who appeared to be in charge. To his relief everyone seemed to be reasonable looking men and none appeared angry with him. The first police officer locked the door behind them. Spock mentally braced himself for whatever was about to come.


	3. The Interrogation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there's this week's dosage of time traveling Spock! Hope you like it :3 please comment any feedback, it's always appreciated!

Sit.” Said the leader, gesturing to the seat. Spock did as he was told, rather relieved in fact as his ankles stung and were painful to put strain on, the logical assumption was that he’d rubbed them raw with thrashing while he was unconscious.

The two police officers stood on either side of Spock, evidently there to intervene if he attempted to mount an escape. The man in front of him sighed, cleaning his wire-rimmed spectacles before putting them on and regarding Spock again.

“Well if you haven’t guessed this is your official questioning. You can call me Mr Todds, I’m in charge of this police station. Let’s start simple: what is your name?”

“S’chn T’gai Spock.” Spock replied calmly, having decided it would be best to simple go with this whole experience, they didn’t seem to be doing him any harm so far.

Mr Todds blinked “Suh Chan too what? Is that Chinese?”

“No, sir, would it be better to address me as Spock Greyson? My mother’s maiden name.”

“Yes, that’ll do. At least some people still know manners.” The last part was muttered to himself as Mr Todds cleaned his glasses, evidently some sort of automatic tick. “Well, Mr Greyson, do you know why you’ve been arrested?”

Spock flinched at the name, not realising he would react in such a way to it until someone else said it out loud. He quickly used all the mental training he had to push away the dark thoughts and memories that were threatening to take him over. Instead, he focused on the situation at hand. “No, sir, I do not.”

Mr Todds seemed exasperated but not surprised “Well, it ain’t uncommon these days to lose your mind so completely to drugs.”

Spock’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, how did he know what’d happened on the Enterprise? His suspiciousness subsided, however, when Mr Todds continued.

“Yes, the Depression has turned even the best men into street rats.” He said, mournfully.

The Depression? Then Spock had been right at his estimation of 1930s Earth. He could be delirious or possibly someone was playing an elaborate joke on him however Spock was more inclined to believe that he’d really travelled back in time, however that may be. Straining his memory, Spock managed to recall the arch the landing crew had seen.

The memories before he woke up and after he’d been injected were foggy. Spock did not like it at all, it was like a smudge on the perfectly polished window that was his mind. Spock shivered, besides himself, at the metaphor; he needed to stop spending so much time with Doctor McCoy.

“Am I to understand that I was found unconscious in possession of drugs, sir?” He asked, innocently.

Mr Todds scoffed at that “Unconscious? It’d have been easier for us if you were. Do you remember what happened, kid?”

“No, sir.” Spock answered truthfully.

“Well then, I’ll let you off without the violence against police charge.”

Spock’s eyes widened “Violence against police?”

“Yes, kid. You have quite an impressive punch on ya, I have to say.” Mr Todds sighed exasperatedly “Look, kid. I like you and I can tell that this,” he gestured at Spock “Isn’t who you are. So I’ll let you off with a warning and a strong request that you see this lady, what was her name, Edith Keeler. She’s good at hard luck cases but she’s gonna expect you to clean up your act. And so do I. I know times ain’t good, kid, and they ain’t looking up neither but that’s no excuse for losing your way. If we find you again I’ll be hard pressed to not be so nice. Got it?”

Spock nodded eagerly, that was perfect. He hadn’t even had to do anything and these men had already come up with their own explanation and let him go. “Yes, sir, thank you for being so considerate, I shall heed your warning.”

That made Mr Todds chuckle “Your nobility is admirable, kid, now you’re free to go. Jenkins over there will lead you out.”

Spock stood and started to leave when Mr Todds stopped him “Oh, and kid,” he said, looking a bit embarrassed which perked Spock’s curiosity, “If you don’t mind me asking… what’n the hell is wrong with your ears?”

Oh yes, in Spock’s confusion he’d forgotten to even try to conceal his Vulcan features. What was he going to do to explain this to everyone he met? “Oh, well… It’s a development abnormality, I was born with it.” He said, relieved when he seemed to accept that. It wasn’t exactly a lie either. With that he was lead out, trying not to think about how on earth he would get back, or forward as it were, to where he belonged.  
*******  
Jim’s head hurt and he was balancing dangerously on the border between calm and hopeless panic. He was a starship captain and this certainly wasn’t the worst situation he’d ever been in. But whenever something happened, no matter how bad, Spock was always there by his side to advise and support him.

He sighed and flipped open his communicator “Kirk to the bridge.” He frowned when there was no response, only static. “Kirk to the bridge, come in bridge crew.” He repeated.

“There is no use, your ship and Federation no longer exist.” The arch said in a calm, level voice that seemed very inappropriate in contrast to the sheer horror Jim was feeling. His eyes met McCoy’s, who was equally panicked by the looks of things.

“Well, fu-


	4. Chapter 4

Jim was hyperventilating and there was no shame in that, he’d just found out that part of the universe was missing, that part being Star Fleet, so he was pretty sure panic was called for. McCoy was trying to calm him down while simultaneously freaking out himself and wishing his drink supply hadn’t disappeared along with the ship it was located on.

“Shit, Bones, what the fuck’s going on? How can the Enterprise be gone? Are the people dead?” Jim said, voice shaking, feeling very appreciative that his friend was there with him and not just crew members who saw him only as their captain. He was allowed to freak out to Bones.

Said man ran a hand over his face “Well… I suppose the only logical,” he spat the word, cringing to himself while Jim giggled “Reason for all this would be that that damn hobgoblin has managed to fuck up history.”

Jim pursed his lips, adrenaline still rushing through his body but his head starting to clear as a plan formed. Really, it was his element to work under pressure in shocking and alarming situations, that’s why he was a starship captain.

“You’re right, Spock must have changed something that created a parallel branch in the universe like when…” Jim cleared his throat, unwilling to say the name of the man who’d murdered his dad and Spock’s entire planet.

Luckily, Leonard seemed to understand “Yeah. So I suppose to get back to normal we have to follow him, or try to arrive before him, and stop Spock from changing whatever he has.” He paused, sighing “The hard will be knowing what exactly was changed that was so important. Every single damned thing any of us does in the past could be it.”

Jim bit his lip “Well… I guess we’ll have to think of any major events we can that might have changed history so much that Star Fleet no longer exists.”

Bones let out an exasperated breath “Yeah, that’s not gonna be like looking for an invisible, microscopic needle in a haystack the size of the damn ocean. If you ever tell Spock I said this I’ll give you a dodgy hypo, but I wish he was here to help us with this.”  
*******  
The first thing that hit him was the cold, things hadn’t been so bad until the cold set in. Spock was shivering uncontrollably as he wondered aimlessly, every form of shelter he could find was already taken by men, women, children, anyone who didn’t have anywhere else to turn. Reading about such events in history books was one thing but to find himself right in the middle of the Great Depression was a whole other thing entirely.

Once the cold settled deep in Spock’s bones his resolve started to weaken. Was anyone looking for him? How would they even find him if they were? How long would they take? Would he even be alive by the time his rescuers got there? Spock was a Vulcan, or half at least, which meant sleep, water and food weren’t pressing concerns, he could survive better without them than his fellow street dwellers could. The cold, however, he could not.

If the frosty bite of the wind was enough to make these Terrans shake pitifully then he didn’t stand a chance. He should have stayed in jail. Spock closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. He missed Vulcan. He missed the scorching glare of the sun, the beautiful village in which was located the house his mother favoured over their large city mansion, he missed his mother…

Spock fell to the floor, finding himself unable to support his own weight any longer. He curled up on himself to preserve heat as the pavement’s frost bit against his cheek. He sobbed desperately for his mother, his lost world and the death cries of billions of minds lost in a single moment.  
*******  
“ ‘e’s funny lookin’ ain’t ‘e?”  
“Oi, don’t be rude. How’d you like being called funny lookin’?”  
“But I ain’t funny lookin’”  
“Ha! It shows that you can’t afford a mirror!”  
“Sod off, Jemmy.”

Spock groaned, waking to the sound of high pitched voices. His head pounded, he felt like he’d just been kicked in the head by a Dirothean bush beast. When his memories came back, Spock’s cheeks burnt with embarrassment. He’d broken down crying in the middle of a street? That was not at all like him. Of course, the death of his planet was a horrible memory that scarred him forever but he was not so out of control of his emotions that such a breakdown was plausible.

However, his body showed all the signs of a chemical imbalance, which was understandable given what he’d been injected with. Spock groaned, the drug must have set of a chain of imbalances amongst his already unstable hybrid body chemistry. If this was serious, mood swings, lapses of control and emotional lapses would be the least of his worries.

“ ‘ey, shut it, you two, look ‘e’s wakin’!”  
Spock was aware of three sets of footfalls traveling closer to him. He opened his eyes to see where he found himself this time. He was greeted with the sight of three young children, two boys and a girl who appeared to be the youngest.

“ Alright, sir? My name’s Richie.” Said the tallest boy who was dressed, who appeared to be about twelve and the leader of the small group.  
“I’m Jeremy, but you can call me Jem.” Said the other boy, maybe nine, in some sort of southern English accent.  
“And I’m Char or Charlotte but I prefer Char!” Said the little girl who could be no more than seven.

Spock stared for a moment at the strange congregation of people before realising it was social convention that he replied “Hello, I am Spock.” He said simply, not sure what else to say. That seemed enough for the kids though because they burst into conversation of their own.

“Spock? Cool! I ain’t never met a Spock before.” Exclaimed Jem.

“Are you a fairy, mister? You’ve got ears like ya could be one.” Char observed in a contemplative tone.

Richie rolled his eyes at his companions “Hey there, Mister Spock, I’m sure you’re confused. Let me explain, we saw you pass out and, well, all sorts of people are out there, you can’t let your guard down and you certainly can’t be unconscious! So we brought you in here nice and safely away from it all. It’s even got some heatin’ down here. We coulda taken your stuff, anyone’s willing to pay for anything around here, heck I’m sure we could have even sold your unconscious body to sommun. But we didn’t do that, even though we sure could find a use for that money. So how’re you gonna pay us?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that okay? Hope so! A new one will be out next week. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to get this up because I think either the website or my wifi crashed for a bit. Anyway, please comment your opinions! And as always thank you so much for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Spock looked around him to make sure he was unobserved before pushing aside the slide of congregated metal behind the trash cans that hid the small gap which was the entrance to his new found shelter. Richie, Jem and Char were very proud of their little home and Spock had to admit that it was fruitful.

It was an abandoned little side room that was originally part of the next door building but had been bricked over at some point, now the only entrance was the way he’d just come in. Heat from the next door building came through the ventilation shafts, no one knew it was there so they didn’t have competition for the spot and the trash cans were a good place to scour for potential items to sell.

Spock held his money haul for the day, it was particularly good. Spock had been there for three days now, as a sort of a rent for staying he would sell junk, along with the three kids, and return all the profits to them. It may not be much but he got food, shelter and friendly company and it felt to Spock like the most beautiful miracle.

Spock handed the money to Richie as soon as he entered, the young boy scrutinised it before nodding “Ain’t bad at all, I’m right glad I didn’t leave you to die.” He said frankly. It was Richie’s dark sense of humour which Spock was growing accustom to. It seemed strange and alarming for someone so young to be so cynical about life but Spock had to remind himself that times were much different back then, or now, people grew up quickly.

Spock curled up in the corner next to a hole that heat leaked through, letting the warmth flow into his body with utter relief at the sensation. He was getting more accustomed to the cold but it was still near agony by the end of a day spent outside with no extra layers like that. He was allowed to return at sunset and could do whatever he wished with the remaining time, as long as it didn’t negatively affect the others.

Soon after he’d returned so did Jem and Char, both likewise handing their money to Richie who was the one to manage its spending. The two kids then also ran to where Spock was, holding their hands out to the hole for warmth. Char smiled at Spock and climbed on top of him, hugging him which Spock couldn’t bring himself to stop her from doing.

“Richie, when’s dinner?” Jem whined in a drawn out tone, pouring on top of that.  
Richie rolled his eyes “Now don’t go expectin’ food like that, I ain’t housin’ spoilt pansies, alright? It’s not always there so it does no good expectin’ it to be. But, yeah, you can have it now, all of you. Stale bread fit for a bloomin’ king.” He said, breaking a hard looking piece of bread into four and handing it out as well as cups of water.

All four of them ate ravenously, although with small bites too, food was too scarce to eat in one go. They had a meal a day and two drinks a day, Spock had turned away the food the first two days but hunger was starting to become unbearable and he didn’t want to risk passing out in the streets again, now he’d been here a while he’d seen the violence that desperation drove some people to.

As had become their routine, Spock and the children fell into conversation over eating, which would last until they decided it was time to sleep. He’d learnt things about them, like how Jem and Char were brother and sister who’d travelled to America with their mother in the hope of a new life after losing everything in the First World War. However, soon after their arrival came the wall street crash, their mother had gotten ill from lack of hygiene on the street and had died. They’d been taken in by Richie much like himself.

Richie had been on the streets the longest, even before the Great Depression. He’d originally been an orphan in a highly unfair paupers children’s home where they’d been frequently beaten and starved and had been put to work tirelessly but had been given none of their earnings. He and a larger group of boys had decided they’d be better off on the streets and had broken out. He wouldn’t say what happened to them but he was alone now. It was him who’d discovered their hideout when he’d been hiding from police in the the bins after stealing some food one day.

Conversation this evening had moved onto police, each sharing their stories with encounters, often laughing at their expense and showing off how cleverly they’d avoided arrest. The topic reminded Spock of something and he frowned, remembering the police’s words to him “Have any of you heard of Edith Keeler?”

The children frowned in thought before Richie replied “Yeah, some do-gooder nut, there’s goodness in everyone and you can all be saved, life can be better; that kinda jazz. Yeah, well what’s so wrong with us that we need to be saved, ay? Right loony. Why?”

Spock shrugged “The name came up. Nothing important.”

The conversation moved on but Spock tuned out, unable to concentrate when a sharp pain shot through him, causing him to gasp and convulse, the pain making him grip his stomach and dirt his teeth. Luckily, his companions didn’t seem to notice, he didn’t want to worry them any more than their already difficult lives did.

He hadn’t had any complete lapses of control again although he was fatigued far more easily and had to sleep daily like a human. He also had an almost constant pain in his abdomen which ranged from being ignorable to agonising jolts, he occasionally lost feeling in parts of his body and he was sometimes on the border of delirium but hadn’t completely lapsed.

It was concerning to say the least, he hoped the affects of his overdose would subside but he highly doubted that, he also doubted that if his condition became worse the local medical procedures could to anything to help him. Spock tried to maintain emotional neutrality but, perhaps it was the affects of the chemical imbalance the overdose caused him, he couldn’t help a feeling of impending doom.  
*******  
“You’re doing what now?”

“Scotty, we’ve told you, McCoy and I are going to go through this arch to time travel back to where Spock did and stop him from changing history. It’s the only way we can put the universe right.”

“But how’ll you know when’s the right time or what’s been changed?” Scotty continued.

Jim bit his lip “We’ll have to approximate the time and search around until we find Spock, we’ll be in the right general location. As for what’s changed… well, we have to work that out when we get there. Hopefully we’ll find Spock and he’ll help us.”

Scotty looked incredulous but didn’t object. Uhura had been pale ever since she’d found out what had happened to Spock but she looked strong and determined as ever “You’re right, Captain. It’s the only way and I have faith in you two idiots to save the universe and our friend.” She said with a small smile.

Jim smiled back, “Thanks, Lieutenant.” He turned around to face the arch and looked at Bones. “Ready?” He asked.

“As ready as a man can be when he’s jumping through a rip in time back into the unknown to save the universe with nothing more than a med-pack, tricorder, phaser and his own two hands.”

Jim smiled at his friends words, the typical McCoy feel of them comforting to him, before drawing in a deep breath and jumping through the arch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you're probably waiting for it to get more into the episode but don't worry that's coming. Hope you like this? Please comment your feedback, I always love hearing it. Thank you for reading! Until next week :3


	6. Stolen Paradise

As soon as Spock came into the vicinity he knew something was wrong, that primal, animalistic instinct that most species possessed to some degree which warned you of danger before it became evident. Spock continued walking to the hideout, tense and ready for attack if necessary.

His heart started pounding, eyes wide with horror and disbelief when he took in the sight before him. The hideout was exposed, the small entrance uncovered and several police officers surrounding it. There was a woman amongst them who didn’t appear to be an officer, she was clad in grubby looking rags but seemed much better kept than many of the others Spock had encountered. Spock lingered just out of sight from the group, straining his sensitive ears to listen in on what they were saying.

“Yes, we’ll have this bricked up as soon as possible, madam.”  
“I can’t thank you enough, officer. Awful matter. I thought it was rats, I did.”  
“Well you weren’t wrong there.” Snickered the officer which had Spock’s bloody boiling and he found himself hard kept to remain out of sight.

“I can’t stand freeloading leeches like that, the county’s got enough trouble without good-for-nothing bastards thinkin’ they can get away with stealing other people’s stuff. I pay for this house with my blood sweat and tears, I do, and quite honestly I feel violated that those scum were using my house as they pleased!”  
“Rightly so, madam.”

“Did you manage to catch them?” The question made Spock freeze with anticipation and dread for the answer.  
“Only one, in afraid. Seemed like the ringleader though. He’s been taken to the station, they’ll decide what’ll become of the filthy beggar there.”  
“I bloomin’ ‘ope they let ‘im rot in some cell!”

“It’s a good thing you spotted ‘em, madam.”  
“I’ll say! I wouldn’t have done either, I don’t think, if it weren’t for the bright blue colour of one of their coats. Unnatural colour, who’s business is it wearing something that bright?” The woman continued her rambling complaints but Spock couldn’t bring himself to concentrate anymore, realisation and horror even more intense rushing through him. He swallowed dryly but couldn’t tame the pace of his racing heart.

It was him, he’d lead to the children’s discovery. They’d been kind, they’d taken him in, given him food and shelter and he’d repaid them by destroying the little they had. Richie was in trouble with the police because of him, Jem and Char were goodness knows where, now without food, warmth or shelter. It made Spock sick. Subconsciously, Spock registered that his body was starting to react badly to the drug again but he was too upset to care.  
*******  
Spock groaned, opening his eyes hesitantly, not really wanting to leave the blissful nothingness of unconsciousness behind. He felt numb. Not just his body but his mind too, exhausted and detached. However, he had to be more concerned about the former, he was freezing.

Spock didn’t want to even think about what he might have done within the time that he couldn’t remember but whatever it was had left him in an area he’d never seen before, lying in the floor. There was even a small layer of snow settled on his back, which was facing upward.

He slowly pushed himself up, groaning softly in pain as his freezing limbs strained. Blinking at his surroundings he could identify no other people. He could see why too, this alley wasn’t very hospitable, it looked to provide no shelter nor any warmth. At least that meant he had no questions to face.

Blearily, Spock considered that he must surely have caught some form of illness by now, his body was not meant to be exposed to such low temperatures for so long. He couldn’t really bring himself to care, besides, the drug side affects would kill him first, no doubt. Well, if he didn’t find some shelter it would be neither, the frost would beat them to it.

Spock stood, although it was a difficult endeavour as there appeared to be little circulation in his legs. He hobbled unstably forward, not knowing where he was going or what he was looking for but knowing he mustn’t give in to the despair or he was signing his own death certificate. It took all his Vulcan teachings to shut out emotions over the fate of his three young saviours, that also took all his mental energy and he was unable to shield himself from other emotions. But no matter, the bite of the wind helped him keep numb anyway.

Pitifully, with no true hope of salvation, Spock made his way through street after street, wondering through a forbidding forest of walls and street lamps. At least in a real forest he might have found some food. All he found here were people. As good people as any others, forced to hide in every nook and cranny they could find, like mould, clinging onto life as hard as they could while the harsh environment tried to tear it away.

It wasn’t forces of nature that threatened their livestock this wasn’t natural at all. Nature took emotionlessly but it also provided, it provided tools to survive, nourishment, anything you could ever need. This wasn’t natural at all. Spock wasn’t someone to approve overly with society but he’d never detested it, not like he did now. Perhaps he wasn’t in his right frame of mind but the couldn’t help but feel angry in his despair.

Who decided it was right to destroy what was natural and reshape it? Place rocks where they didn’t belong, carve wood into shapes it’d never meant to be, create these cold cages he was now trapped in? Was it mankind? The same mankind who was trapped with him? How the hell was anyone supposed to survive this? It was like some cruel puzzle that didn’t have a solution.

Paranoia bubbled uncontrolled within him, Spock’s sanity was once again fading. In his mania he jumped to wild conclusions. He imagined that Star Fleet had purposefully done this to him, that they were watching him suffer from cameras, laughing.

He imagined that the wind was made purposefully to torture him and that every shadow was sneering. There’d were cameras behind every stone and every homeless person was a spy. They were after him. They wanted to kill him. Thieves! Murderers! He wouldn’t let them! He’d… he’d kill them first! He wouldn’t let them kill him!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dundunduuuun. Wow, Spock really can't catch a break :( Jim, Bones get in here and hug your poor baby! Idk how many of you have watched the episode but I promise you it's really good! I will include more elements of it even if I seem to be going off on a tangent, don't worry :3 Anyways, what did you think? Was this good? Please comment your opinions, I'd love to hear them!


	7. Liquid Hope

Spock shivered pitifully in the abandoned doorway that he’d managed to claim as his own, he knew he must be a sorry sight but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The cold was unforgiving and the loneliness was consuming. He’d started to welcome his lapses of sanity as they gave him some relief from this hopelessness.

But, as always, the universe seemed to be against him. His unconscious spells were becoming fewer and shorter between but the pain was increasing. No doubt this was an indication that the original drug was wearing off but his body’s reaction to it was not leaving with it, in fact it seemed to be getting worse. He needed desperately to get back to the Enterprise sickbay.

Spock scoffed cynically to himself. He also needed a roof, a heater, some food, some water and a familiar face but he wasn’t getting any of those any time soon either. He curled up further on himself although it did him no good. He closed his eyes and tried with all that was left of his Vulcan control to dissociate himself from the situation but it just wouldn’t work, every new striking blow from the wind jolted him back to reality with its stinging harshness against his skin and through his clothes.

A tap to his side had Spock tense with trepidation. He opened his eyes but there was no enemy to behold, he was instead greeted by the sight of the old woman who sat near him on the street. Upon closer study, Spock could see that she was, in fact, not an old woman at all. Her face was lined with weariness and her back was hunched over from spending her days doubled over to protect herself from the wind but she could be no more than the early side of twenties.

She gestured again and Spock realised she was holding out a paper bag. He studied it apprehensively, unsure of what he was supposed to do in the situation. She extended her arm more vigorously, clearly insisting he take the bottle. She appeared to be unable to talk, or perhaps unwilling. Nevertheless her intention was clear and from a look at her face Spock could see now maliciousness there, only tired understanding and empathy. He thanked her quietly and, against his better judgement but with nothing really to lose, drank.

No discernible taste hit him but instead he was aware of a strong burning sensation as the liquid went down his throat. He coughed, spluttering slightly, before regaining his composure. As an after analysis, the drink was not at all unpleasant. It had a hell of a kick to it but it left him with a warmth in the core of his body that battled the bone-deep chill that had overcome him. It also made him feel… better. It was strange as the drink did not offer companionship nor a way out of this situation and yet it made him feel like he didn’t have to worry, that all would be well.

He looked back up to return the drink to the lady, although he rather wanted to keep it, but found the space empty and the woman gone, having left the drink behind. Spock cradled the bottle close to his chest, holding it like a life buoy. It was the most precious treasure he possessed and it was his hope in this darkness, he could not finish it all, not until he had another to be sure it wouldn’t leave him. But finally he had a bitter beacon of hope in the darkness.  
*******  
Jim stumbled slightly as his feet made contact with ground. He regained his balance, although he still felt very disoriented, and looked around him. McCoy’s presence beside him was assuring at least. He would hate to be stuck here, in a whole new time, alone. His thoughts strayed to Spock and his heart clenched. He knew the Vulcan was strong and could put up with much but this would be harsh for anyone, let alone someone who is sick. He knew his priority should be fixing time but he could help that truly his personal priority was finding Spock.

McCoy looked around, taking in their surroundings and Jim joined him. They were in a stone, side alley, which was good as they had just materialised out of thin air. The sky was a sickly looking grey and the air was thick with pollution and some awful smell he didn’t care to identify. He hadn’t seen any people yet but he was sure they’d be wearing ancient Earth clothes. How very… fascinating.

“Well I’ll be damned, 1930s earth. I knew time travel was possible, obviously, but I’d never have thought I’d be damn doing it.” Bones muttered to himself. He then scowled “Do you know how many diseases there are floating around here, Jim? And not a piece of medical technology worth mentioning!” Jim chuckled at that, the familiarity of McCoy’s speech reassuring.

“Yeah, I know. We’d better get in and out quickly then, wouldn’t you say, Bones?” He retaliated.

“You bet your boots we should. Of all the crazy things you have me doing, Jim, time travel is definitely up there. I’m a doctor not a Time Lord.”

Jim couldn’t help but laugh, despite the dire situation. “C’mon then.” He said and started to walk, not knowing at all where he was going or what exactly he thought he was doing but he couldn’t just stand there gawking and overthinking or he’d lose his will entirely.

Jim turned thoughts over his head, evaluating everything they had to do and what was more pressing before letting out a huffed breath “Well, first of all,” he started “We are far to conspicuous in these clothes. They stand out to much in contrast to those of this society.”

McCoy snorted “Since when did Jim Kirk ever care about being conspicuous or standing out?” He asked which earned him a playful shove from Jim.

“Yeah, yeah. Still, we need to at least find a coat to cover the bright colours.” Once again, his thoughts went to Spock. How was he fairing, disguising himself? He had pointed ears and upturned eyebrows which only a little while before this time would have had him executed for witchcraft. Was he even well enough to care about such things? Was he even conscious?

For all he knew Spock could be unconscious, vulnerable to attack and theft and even worse. He shook himself. He had to stop doing that, stop thinking about Spock every other instance. He cared about Spock and his well being, obviously. But that’s why he had to stop thinking so much about him. The more time he wasted worrying, the longer Spock was out there alone and in danger.

“Yeah, that’s all good and well, Jim, but how’n the hell do you expect we’re gonna get clothes? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but neither of us have a portable ancient Terran money museum on us.”

Jim bit his lip and turned to his friend “I might have an idea…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dundundun. If you've watched the episode you know what that means, if you haven't well you'll find out in a week. And: noooo Spock, don't do that, you're better than that, your bab Jim will save yOu. So what dya think? Is it still good? I'd love to hear your opinions in the comments! Until next week :3


	8. Thief

Spock hit his head hard against the wall behind him, closing his eyes. He didn’t quite know why he did it, to escape the pain; to take out anger or something else, but he knew that it helped. Somehow. It was illogical but it worked so who was he to complain.

By now he’d lost track of time, the days were dark, the sun shrouded by thick, polluted smog, the little light that did get through never reached the corner he sat in and days and nights were just as cold so really he couldn’t tell how long he’d been stuck here, and that somehow made it worse. He must have been in this time for a while but not too long as his hair had grown a little, it had grown just enough to cover the points of his ears and eyebrows so that was something at least.

He felt hopeless, completely hopeless. Hopeless because he doubted anyone was going to rescue him, hopeless because he could feel his body getting sicker every day and hopeless because this was all getting to him and he was supposed to be stronger than this, far stronger.

Spock curled in on himself, closing his eyes. One of the many things he hated about his situation was that he was left completely alone to his thoughts, nothing else to do. His thoughts were… brutal, cruel to him, like his subconscious was torturing him on purpose, maybe it was he’d never been the most self-loving person.

His body was protesting about it too, he had little energy from lack of food but he still ached to get some exercise, although he didn’t dare as then someone else would take his corner. It was a rather pathetic place to live but it offered a bit of support and shelter, if not much it was better than nothing.

It was illogical, stupid and foolish but… Spock longed for alcohol again. It wasn’t much, not at all, he was a Vulcan, or partially so, therefore the liquid had nowhere near as much of an effect on him as it would on a full human. But he was half human so it did have a little bit of an effect, a whole bottle like he’d been given was enough to effect him enough to take away this pain.

It was also warming, although he knew it wasn’t actually helping him stay warm it did help make the cold more bearable. It even sated his hunger somewhat for a small while at least. He’d been using the bottle to catch rain whenever it fell so he wasn’t in danger of dying of dehydration but water didn’t quench hunger, with the alcohol the taste tricked his body into thinking he had food for a little while. Everything was worse after though, his hunger, his thirst, the pain, but it was worth it for the while everything was better.

But he wouldn’t get any more alcohol by sitting there, he’d been unusually fortunate once but it wouldn’t happen again. Maybe if he got up and left he could… well, he didn’t quite know but he was more likely to get warmth, food, even alcohol, anything if he ventured away than if he stayed here. The problem was he’d be risking all he had, and he didn’t have much, for only the chance, a very small chance at that, of getting something better, which might only be temporary. Spock shook his head, and sat back. He’d never been a gambling man.  
*******  
Jim let out a ragged breath, trying to calm his nerves. He knew the plan, everything would be fine, it’d all be fine. And it’s not like he was committing a crime just for the sake of it, he needed these clothes, the universe was kind of at stake here.

A few more seconds and the coast was clear, Jim turned around to look at Bones who nodded. Jim quickly but cautiously ran to the ladder that led up to someone’s balcony. Whoever lived there had hung their clothes out to dry and this seemed to be their best shot at a disguise. Bones was standing back, trying to look inconspicuous while keeping an eye out for police.

Jim climbed up the ladder, his body seeming to pound in time with his heart and adrenaline rushing through him. As fast as he could he grabbed some stuff that seemed like they’d fit, bundling them into his arms.

“Jim!” The panicked cry had Jim’s stomach clench in panic. He turned to see McCoy running away from where he’d been positioned.  
“Officers coming this way, we have to go, now!” Bones said in a hissed panic of a whisper.  
Jim nodded his understanding, ascending as quickly as he could, forcing himself to take his time and not stumble or fall, or they’d certainly be caught.

Feeling solid ground beneath his feet felt like a complete relief, he only allowed himself a moment to enjoy it, though, as they had to run. Leonard and Jim ran as fast as they could, disappearing around the corner and trying to weave a tricky route that’d have anyone following them lost, hopefully. The only problem with that was that they didn’t know the area in the least and kept on running into dead ends or main roads.

As the sounds of footfalls behind them became fainter then non existent, Jim almost let himself relax. Almost. He couldn’t help but feel like their troubles were most certainly not over.

Turning the next corner the pair were forced to skid to a stop, Jim’s fears confirmed as they found themselves face to face with a police officer. Jim stared, jaw working as he tried to think of a way to explain this.  
*******  
Spock bit his lip until he drew blood, unable to stand this. A food vender had decided it would a lovely idea to set up a store right in the middle of the street. Spock didn’t know why on Earth anyone would want to do that, this part of the town, this street especially, was penniless, people could afford a single grain of rice.

He was so hungry. He could take hunger for a very long while but Vulcans still had to eat eventually, like anyone else. He’d been shutting off the sensation of hunger for as long as his body could handle but he couldn’t any longer, he was too desperate. He wished he’d eaten more on that last day on the Enterprise instead of having skipped dinner in favour of going to the labs and only having eaten an apple for breakfast.

The food vender was cooking something, or maybe just heating it up, all Spock knew was that it smelt amazing. Enticing, willing him to go forward and just take it, consequences aside. This cruel taunting was furthered still when the man left all together, leaving the food completely unattended…

Spock couldn’t take any more, he ran forward and grabbed something, he didn’t take time to look what it was just ran, as fast as he could manage, away. He heard shouting behind him and picked up the pace. He was slower than usual, starved, exhausted and ill, he hoped he’d still be fast enough to escape. He shoved what he was holding down his trousers and up his sleeves, hoping that even if he was caught he’d still have them.

A blow to his back sent him tumbling to the floor, his head impacting with the ground and his hands grazing across the concrete. He gasped and choked slightly on blood, he must have bitten his tongue or split his lip when he fell, he concluded. He turned around and came eye to eye with his attacker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two cliff hangers in one! Wow, I'm cruel XD Come back next week if you want to see what happens next to our precious lil' thiefs. The moral of this story is don't steal... or maybe it's if you are stolen from then just stop a moment and consider that maybe the person who stole from you is actually a time traveler in desperate need of your help. Or whatever. Anyways, please comment to tell me what you think! I'd love to hear from you :3 Until next week, byeee!


	9. Lucky Escape

Spock was considerably dazed and in no shape to fight back. He stared, the world spinning before his eyes, as he barely registered a fist traveling towards his face. He moved to the side in the last minute, the fist still hitting him but not directly as it had been intended. He fell back again, even more dizzy and disorientated.

Spock braced himself for another blow but when none came he risked a glance up. The man was standing there, momentarily distracted, looking down at the fist he’d just punched with. Spock didn’t have time to question his actions, this opportunity was probably all he would get. His arm lashed out, like a coiled snake, as he gripped the man’s neck in a Vulcan nerve pinch.

He watched as his attacker crumpled to the floor, eyes momentarily wide in a moment of shock before they closed. Spock tried not to feel too bad, he’d be okay, if a bit sore. Before he ran, needing to get out before he was once again arrested, Spock peered over the unconscious man to see what he’d been looking at, his curiosity getting the better of him.

What he saw made Spock freeze, anxiety rising within him. The man’s fist was covered in green. He lifted his own hand up to touch his face, fingers greeted by wetness. He pulled them away and sure enough they were coated in his own green blood. His hair hid his ears and eyebrows but even if they were seen he could try to explain it. But no human had green blood. He had to get out of here quickly.  
*******  
Jim cursed, giving in to the urge to punch the wall. He and McCoy had tried to reason and explain their way out of the situation but the police officer was having none of it and here they were. In a cell. Where they had no way of even trying to find Spock or save the stupid universe. Jim sighed, running a hand over his face. At least Bones was in the same cell as him.

It’d actually be very easy to get out of this cell, especially since it was only old-earth mechanics and the guards hadn’t even taken their phasers or communicators, probably not realising they were anything of importance as they weren’t familiar with the designs. It was still a damn inconvenience, though. They had to break out, wasting time, they’d lost the clothes and now the police could very well be on the look out for them when they did escape and they weren’t exactly inconspicuous.

However, before Jim could even begin starting to break open the cage door, someone came and unlocked it. Two officers walked in silently and cuffed them before walking them out. Jim exchanged a look with Bones, this could either be good or very bad.

Not wanting to get into any more trouble than they were already in, Jim and Leonard stayed silent and let themselves be lead without trouble. They ended up in a small-ish room with a table and three chairs, two one one side one opposite. There was a man already sitting in the single chair, cleaning his glasses and looking very tired.

“Hello, my name is Mr. Todds, I’m in charge around here. Now I’m gonna ask you two some now questions. If I was you I wouldn’t wanna make this any worse for myself and if just go along and cooperate.”

Jim spoke up, not knowing whether he was supposed to or not but doing so anyway, “Yes, I agree completely. You don’t have to expect any trouble from us, sir.”

The ejaculation had Mr. Todds’ eyes traveling up to study Jim before making a ‘hmm’ing sound and looking back down. “Sit, there are chairs for a reason.” Kirk and McCoy were quick to acquiesce.

Mr. Todds took a moment to study their clothes, shaking his head “Well some folk don’t half wear funny clothes, I’ll never understand kids fashion trends anymore. Now, I haven’t seen any clothes that strange since that Spock fella was here.” He muttered more to himself than anyone else.

Jim turned to look at Bones, eyes widening. “Spock?” He asked, barely daring to ask in case he’d heard wrong.

Mr. Todds looked surprised and scrutinised Jim over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses “Why yes, that’s right. Do you know the fella? There can’t be that many people called that.”

Jim hesitated a moment before nodding “Yeah, I do know him. He was here? As in, he got arrested?” He asked incredulously.

Mr. Todds chuckled “Yeah, he did. You seem surprised, I didn’t think he seemed the type to get into trouble either, that’s why I let him off with a warning. He was in a very bad way when we saw him, poor kid.”

Jim paled slightly at that. He knew logically (he winced internally at the word) that Spock would probably be hurt by the drug but it still felt like being punched in the gut to hear it said. He couldn’t have been that bad if he was able to talk to these police officers, Jim tried to convince himself but he knew really that Spock would conceal injury to the point of collapse so if these men could tell he was unwell then it must really be bad.

In his spiral of thoughts, Jim didn’t realise that Mr. Todds had been talking to him until a rough nudge from under the table had him snapping back to reality. He saw the man staring at him as if waiting for an answer. Briefly, he tried to come up with something clever to say when he really didn’t know what was expected of him but then gave up. “I’m sorry, sir, I was so consumed with worry over my friend that I completely zoned out.”

There must be someone in the universe vouching for them as, to Jim’s astonishment, Mr. Todds’ face warmed up, eyes filled with concern as if he was emotionally invested in the story.

“You see, he’s sick. Injured and in a very bad condition as it’s been untreated.” Added Leonard “I’m sure you must have noticed if you really have seen him. It’ll only get worse if left untreated, I’m afraid.”

“Well!” Exclaimed Mr. Todds “And here I was thinking he’d been drinking! I had no idea he was sick or I would have sent him to the hospital straight away…” he said with a hint of guilt and regret in his voice. "He reminds me of my son, you know.” He said, contemplatively.

He cleared his throat “I suppose, as a apology to your friend, I could let you two free, as long as you make it your business to find him and take care of him. He’s lucky to have people who’ve got his back, especially in these troubled times. I should really have you locked up here for as long as thieving beggars like you deserve but… well, you seem like good fellows and quite frankly we are running out of space in this jail, what with everyone being so desperate and all. 

“Good men turning to crime all over, do you know where the real criminals are? All sittin’ on their velvet cushions and not giving a damn, that’s were! Now you won’t see them with cuffs round their wrists, oh no, heaven forbid! Cus breaking God’s laws are fine apparently.” He started off in a muttered rant to himself as he shuffled over some papers.

He fixed them with a stern look “Now, don’t go stealing again, it ain’t right no matter how hungry or cold you are. There are places you can go! When there are people in need there are always do-gooders by their sides. There ain’t no excuse for committing crimes, got that? And if you’re caught again then you’ll be locked up for double the time.”

Sighing, he dismissed them “Go on then, get out of here, I’m a busy man. And don’t you tell anyone about this! Else, the whole lot of bandits will be doin’ as they please thinkin’ old Todds has gone soft! Out with you.”

Jim stood blinking in the corridor after having been chucked out. Well that was damn lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both lots got off lucky there! Another week, another chapter, was it any good? Please tell me what you think in the comments! And make sure to check back in again next week to see what happens next! Until then, byee


	10. No No-Win Scenarios

Spock gasped, staggering unbalanced into the alleyway, arm grasping out for purchase on the wall to prevent him from falling. He’d ran, as far and fast as he could. He ran until his lungs ached, his head span and his injuries throbbed in White pain, demanding to be tended to.

Slowly, Spock crumpled against the wall. He couldn’t sit, like his tired body wanted, because the street floor was covered in some sort of soapy grey liquid, probably a piping leak or sewage from the smell. That was probably why he was the only occupant of the alley.

Resting his burning head against the cool rock surface of the wall, Spock reflected over his situation. Now he had no shelter at all. What had he been thinking? Robbing like that… his mother would be ashamed, anyone would be ashamed. Although that reminded him, he had food now!

Spock took out what little he’d managed to grab, holding his prize delicately, praisingly. Thank goodness for small mercies. He’d grabbed a small bread-bun, a few roasted nuts, some fried vegetables and a small square of cheese, all looking rather battered and squashed but to Spock they were more precious than gold.

He gingerly dug into, what was in comparison to the nothingness he’d had for days, his small feast. Logically, he knew that he should ration this as he didn’t know when he’d find his next meal, if at all. But he couldn’t stop himself, every single bite was like ecstasy, his body craved more and more and who was he to deny it? Besides, who’s to say he’d live long enough to eat it if he rationed it? For all he knew he’d die in his sleep.

He felt positively ecstatic, he felt amazing. Finally, the world was being good to him. Everything was okay. He didn’t care if he died, he probably would, how was he even supposed to survive anyway? But he knew, he just knew that everything was okay. He could feel I, everything… everything was…  
*******  
Spock lay shivering on the floor, clothes soaked through with the unidentifiable liquid which was also touching the very tip of the side of his lip. He didn’t care. He couldn’t bring himself to care. Spock speculated that the impromptu bout of bodily strain he’d experienced from the attack and retreat of earlier had induced yet another imbalance of his bodily chemicals and inducing a manic high.

And, as was the annoying tendency in such situations, an extreme high was followed by its counterpart in low. Except this time, Spock did not have the luxury of being lost in delirium, he was completely lucid. His body, however, was in an awful state. His limbs had lost all strength, his body was convulsing and what had started as feeling like a cool rush through his veins had steadily escalated to a sharp burn.

He knew that it was completely unwise to remain in such a position, getting this unsanitary stagnant water on his body at all, let alone in his open wounds, was highly illogical and yet he was helpless to doing anything about it. He didn’t have the strength to get up and even if he did, where would he go? 

Briefly, he wondered cynically how any society ever could let a sentient being suffer in such a way, not hidden behind doors but out in the public of the streets and not just one but many. But then, he speculated, what society could claim that they didn’t? Spock silently vowed to himself and to whatever powers that may be that if he survived this and ever found his way back to a warm, soft bed he would devote his shore leaves to helping homeless charities.  
*******  
The convulsions had stopped, that was something. So had the pain. However, that meant he was left with no distractions to face the biting, unrelenting despair. He’d given up. This was him, S’chn T’gai Spock, officially giving up, to whoever cared.

His eyes burnt with tears that escaped but were disguised amongst the water that already drenched him. How ironic that his shows of emotion were still to be shielded, if he had enough breath to spare he might even have laughed.

It hurt. It just hurt so bad. Who said he had to be strong all the time? Why did they have the right? He’d tried, no one could ever say he didn’t. He’d tried so damn hard despite it all and this is where he was. After everything he’d done for the universe this is where he was! After all that he reserved the right to give up.

Spock let his limbs go limp, his face submerging in the water, not able to bring himself to even support his neck any longer. He let out a small grunt, which escaped to the surface as a few bubbles, as his face pressed against something sharp. He numbly managed to wrench his arm up to grab whatever it was, pulling his face back out of the water to scrutinise it.

Something inside him latched onto the little device with acute, toxic fascination. It was a drug administering needle, and it was full. Like a toddler reaching out to touch the flame of their flickering birthday candle, Spock was drawn to it. It looked pretty, almost, reflecting the artificial glow of light that was almost inescapable in a city.

Perhaps the universal powers were finally smiling upon him. Perhaps this was the salvation he so desperately needed; to give him the strength to continue or maybe to lull him painlessly into an eternal sleep, for better or for worse. It wouldn’t take much effort, not much at all. Just moving his hand a little closer until he could manoeuvre the small, silvery point into his skin, the location didn’t matter, anywhere would do. Then… then it was up to powers above him, a deity; destiny; karma; chance, to decide what’d become of him. Just one small action and…

No. No! Spock recoiled, as if burnt, staring in shock at the place the syringe fell with a rippling splash. Nothing was visible of it there but he continued to stare anyway, now only at his ripple distorted reflection. In his horrified distress he’d sat bolt upright, body ridged, with strength derived from pure natural instinct and unconscious reserve alone.

He sat panting, disgusted, ashamed and shocked. Would he have really done that? How could he even consider it? How low had he come that he was now sitting in a bacteria-ridden puddle, bleeding and broken, ready to use a drug-needle that he’d found lying on the floor in sewage? This wasn’t right, this wasn’t, this wasn’t… him. He needed… , Spock let out a desperate sob, he needed help.

Unable to feel his limbs, running on adrenaline and final bodily energy reserves, Spock numbly ran from the dark alley, ran from the place symbolising the deepest point he’d fallen in this dark pit. He didn’t know where he was going but this couldn’t be the way, this couldn’t be all! In his determined haze, two crystal blue orbs pierced his memory. He’d once been told there were no no-win situations. He sure hoped Jim was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was this too dark? Probably, this whole fic is basically! But don't worry! It can only go up from here. Thank you for enduring this, please tell me in the comments what you think! Whether you're suffering reading about poor Spock or whether you can't get enough of it.
> 
> Also dya like the random Charity promo I added? Someone should pay me for that, I need to find someone to sponsor me XD imagine if that happened and I just added random promos everywhere: 'Spock desperately rummaged through the trash can for something, anything, to drink. Then, alas! He found it! The saving glow of Mountain Dew, only 1.80 from your local corner store!' XD or maybe I'll stick to what I do best, angst to fluff Star Trek fics.


	11. Edith Keeler

“Well, that was damn lucky!” Bones exclaimed as soon as the pair were out of the building. Jim and Leonard were both gingerly rubbing their wrists which were slightly raw from the hand cuffs. They were now back where they’d started but somehow it felt so much better than originally as they realised their alternatives could be mush worse.

“So… what now?” Jim thought aloud, sighing and running a hand through his hair. Problems were a lot easier to solve when they just included pointing the photon torpedoes in the right direction. Not that he couldn’t solve other problems, he was a bit of a genius after all, it was just easier that way though.

“Well, I know what I’m gonna make us do, Jim, and I don’t care if you don’t like it. We’re doing it.” This answer had him surprised. He gave McCoy a questioning look, the man rolled his eyes in response.  
“We are going straight to a homeless shelter.”

He quickly continued, now talking over Jim’s protests “Now don’t go complaining. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is here? There are criminals on the streets, we’re exposed to the elements, we have no shelter, no food and we’re exposed to goodness knows what pathogens. I’m not stitching you back together if you go and get yourself broken.”

“But isn’t that your job?” Jim quipped.  
Bones rolled his eyes “Yeah, well my employers just went and faded out of existence so I think I’m on holiday.”  
Jim chuckled before frowning “I don’t think we should go to a homeless shelter, we’re not even from this time period. There are other genuinely homeless people who could be going there instead.”  
“Jim, I hate to burst your bubble but we are genuinely homeless people right now! And it’s not like we’ll be staying for long. We just need to find Spock and fix the universe then we’ll be on our way. How many other homeless people need shelter so they can save the universe?”  
“More than you’d think, I’m assuming.” Jim said with a grin.  
Bones huffed “Well, come on, let’s find some place.”  
*******  
Edith Keeler. Edith Keeler. The two words spun around Spock’s head as his mind clung to them for dear life. What’d the man said? It seemed so very important now when he’d merely brushed it off then. Regularly, his memory was impeccable but he wasn’t exactly in the best state. Despite having a probably acceptable excuse, Spock still hated himself a bit more for being so careless.

Okay, she was some sort of ‘do-gooder’ Richie had said. The police officer had told him to go to her for help. Right now, help sounded too good to be true. What was it she did? Was it some sort of sick trick, a place homeless people would go for a better life only to be used for free labour or killed? Honestly, death didn’t sound too bad an idea and nothing could be any worse than the way he was living now, surely. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

But how to find her? Well, people seemed to know who she was, they’d been able to answer him when he asked. So, perhaps if he asked someone now they’d be able to give him directions or at least tell him some more information. Then again, the last time he’d truly interacted with people he’d been in a far better state. He barely felt like the same person.

This, whatever it was, wasn’t Spock. It couldn’t be. Spock wasn’t supposed to be emotional, in pain, pathetic, scraping the fringes of the streets for life and giving up. It was as if someone had hit pause on his life and told him to sort himself out before he could continue being himself. If he didn’t sort himself out, what would happen? Would he die? It kept on coming back to that in his mind.

Well, at least there was no one here to see him. No one here to save him either. His father would be ashamed, more so than usual. So would Jim and Leonard and any of his other friends. Would they even recognise him? We’re they thinking about him, missing him? Of course not, they weren’t even born yet.

That was another rather uncomfortable thing. He was in the past, Vulcan was still there. Somewhere in the sky there were his people, or his half people anyway, walking on those beautiful red sands, standing in the baking sunlight, living amongst buildings as old as the civilisation itself. He wanted to warn them, to save them. He wanted to cry out to them for help for himself. But neither could happen, they’d never hear him, not even through their minds.

The Vulcan mind network was there and healthy and like a miracle to Spock who’d witnessed it shattering into a thousand pieces. It was there and strong with his mind on the outside, crushed by the pressure of it. It hurt so badly but that at least he was used to, it’d been a long time since the Vulcan mind network hadn’t hurt for him.

His grandmother was probably up there. She would be only a child like himself and she’d certainly have no idea who he was but all the same he just wanted to run into her arms and hug her tightly. She’d be scandalised and chide him for emotion but the words would be music to his ears.

Spock huffed, he really was being illogical, standing in the middle of a street and getting lost in emotional thoughts when he had a task to do. With that thought, Spock set off on his mission. But where to first? A more busy road, that way there’d be more people and he’d be more likely to find someone to ask. But would they answer? He looked awful and smelt even worse. Maybe that’d work in his favour, he definitely looked like he needed help. With that somewhat degrading thought in mind. Spock was on his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally on track to the episode! I feel like this chapter kinda marks the start of the would-be part two of this fic. Things are obviously gonna still be angsty, it's me writing it, but there shall be hope now! And hopefully fluff later. Are you excited to see where phase two takes our baby Spock? Relieved to see Edith's name at least mentioned? Literally aren't even reading what I'm writing right now? Tell me what you think in the comments!


	12. Dear Stranger

Spock bit his lip in uncertainty, an outward display of emotion that he'd usually never engage in. It was all good and well deciding he was going to ask for help but doing it was a whole other story. The closest thing to emotion the Vulcan species were prone to engaging in was pride and Spock was no exception. It hurt his pride far more confronting a stranger for help than in this state than even eating out of a bin bag. Nevertheless, he must overcome said pride if he wished to survive any longer.

He'd found a busy looking road and was standing just off to the side, shrouded in shadow. Many people walked in every direction, quick and swift all, clearly with somewhere to be and no time to spare. They hurried on their way like they wanted to be anywhere but where they were. Spock took a deep breath and emerged from his hiding place.

"Excuse me? H-Hello... Good day, sir. Excuse me, madam..." Spock attempted, voice croaky from Mack of use, to get someone's, anyone's, attention, walking back and forth with a hint of ever growing desperation. He would think that he'd become invisible if it weren't for the way that the people he tried to talk to looked pointedly, stiffly ahead, mothers pulling their children closer, businessmen scowling, one woman even said that she wasn't interested in buying any, whatever 'any' was.

With every second and every rejection Spock became less confident, losing his will like someone had pulled a plug. Eventually, someone responded. The woman smiled in a kindly way, she emanated 'loving mother' in every way and, sure enough, cradled a little infant to her chest. Her empathetic brown eyes made Spock's chest ache in longing and loss.

"Hello, deary, what can I do for you, my love?" She asked, looking at Spock patiently.  
Spock, slightly stunned at being responded to having gotten used to being ingnored, took a moment to reply "Oh... Hello, would you happen to know where I can find Edith Keeler?"  
"Sorry, no." The woman gave him a sorrowful look "I wish I could be of more help but I'm new to this area and don't know a soul. Here, take this though." She said, extending a cookie "I made it myself." When Spock tried to refuse she merely tutted "No, no I insist. I hope you find who you're looking for, sweetie." She said before leaving on her way again.

Spock sighed and pocketed the cookie, he may need it if his search for this 'Edith Keeler' continues going this well. The small bought of kindness, however, strengthened his resolve and Spock decided to continue to search a little longer.

It took another twenty minutes, during which time he had to have a break so as not to have a breakdown, before another person responded. This time it was a man, or more like boy, who looked like he was the age to have only just gotten out of school. Judging from the crate of bread he was carrying he must be a delivery boy for a bakery or something of the likes.

"Alright, fella?" He said with a thick accent that was some branch of American Spock couldn't identify.  
"Good afternoon, sir, I'm sorry for bothering you. I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of Edith Keeler?" He tried, not having many hopes by this point.  
"Oh yeah, sure I can. Good on you for taking the initiative to sort ya life out, man."

Spock was so surprised by the affermative answer that it took him a moment to process it. Before he knew it the boy was starting on the instructions.  
"Just take a left over yonder, stick to the right side from there until you see an ally with a posh lookin' arch over. Go through that and it opens up to a main road. There you'll see a tallish building with a big door and that's your one. Good luck, man, gotta run though! Deliveries." He said before quickly doing just that.

Spock stared after him, the boy's silhouette dissapearing in the horizon before he turned to look down where he'd said to go. He'd finally done it, he'd found out where to find Edith Keeler, supposedly at least. That had seemed like it was his purpose and goal for so long he was unsure now it was accomplished.

Was he really going to go there? Of course, he had to after all this. What'd it be like? Well, no one said anything bad about it when he'd heard her name brought up, and that boy had been encouraging about the matter. It couldn't be too bad. But could he really bring himself to go to a homeless shelter or help centre or whatever it was? Had he sunk that low? Yes. Yes he had. And he needed to get help before he sunk anymore because this far was enough.

With that thought in mind, Spock made his way, repeating the isntructions delicately and on repeat in his mind like something sacred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omggg I didn't post last week! Bad me :( And this chapter is short! (At least I'm assuming, I haven't read the word count) But hey, I'm back at least. Did anyone miss me? No? Okay, fair enough. Comments are always appreciated, I love to know what you think! Until next week, bye!


	13. Persistent Pain

Spock bit his lip. He’d been doing that a lot recently and it’d taken its toll, his bottom lip had become worn, tender and mildly swollen. Luckily it hadn’t drawn blood yet or he’d have a hard time avoiding unwanted attention. Perhaps he’d be able to explain green blood by saying it was just something he’d eaten that’d stained his lips or something. The thought didn’t sit well with him, he really didn’t like lying even if he was theoretically able to do it, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Just look what he was doing now. Going to a homeless shelter, him! There were many on the Enterprise who would have bet on it not being true and many more who’d pay to see it, goodness some people were obsessed with money. But the Enterprise crew had been money oriented in a fun way not in this desperate, tooth and claw scrabble for money for means to live that Spock was now living in. Why should money be such a big deal? Why should a small chunk of metal or piece of paper or electronic value dictate who died, thrived, who suffered?

Spock shook off those thoughts. There was no more time for contemplation of the universe and the matters within it-he’d reached the Edith Keeler. Or, at least, he’d reached the building that he’d been instructed to go to to meet Edith Keeler. Spock looked up and let out a gushing breath to soothe his nerves. He was alright, this was going to go just fine, it was the logical course of action after all. With that self encouragement, Spock walked into the building.

He felt very awkward and out of place straight away. There was an almost pub like set up with lots of tables and chairs with what was presumably a serving area on the side that took place of what was conventionally a bar, if it would have been a pub. This place contained far more people than he’d anticipated, although mercifully they didn’t look up when he entered. He didn’t think he could take that much attention when he was in this state. Still, that was an overwhelming amount of people when he didn’t even know where to start or what exactly he was searching for or supposed to do.

A sharp stabbing pain in his stomach rendered that the least of his concerns. Spock tried to bite back a cry of surprise and pain but was unable to. He couldn’t see if the people had reacted to him, they must have though, because his eyes had gone blurry. Had they gone blurry? Or was he just blacking out? Spock couldn’t tell. He couldn’t care either because the pain was burning, burning, burning and getting worse by the second.

He felt like he was going to be sick and it was all he could do to keep the little food he had in his system down. This was absolutely horrid. Unlike the majority of other times his body decided to react to the drug he was completely conscious and had to suffer through this pain aware of every second. Breathing was becoming a challenge. He had to concentrate so hard on the movement of his chest to keep it rising and falling and even then he couldn’t feel the fresh rush of oxygen. He willed himself not to panic.

Soon, mercifully he was put out of his misery. Spock welcomed the black nothingness that overwhelmed him.  
*******  
“So what exactly was your grand plan to find a homeless shelter to stay in again?” Jim asked exasperatedly as he found himself in yet another identical grey alleyway.  
Bones huffed in response “I’m a doctor, Jim, not a war general! I know nothing about plans, you’re supposed to be the plans man you’re the captain!”

Jim pinched his temple “Alright, that’s all good and well but you could have just admitted that in the first place before leading us into the middle of nowhere! And I’m not the plans man, my plans man fell through a time portal and accidentally destroyed the universe.”  
“Now hold on a damn minute! I didn’t lead us here, you did!”  
“Me? How could I lead, you were walking in front!”  
“I was not! We were walking next to each other, and you’re the one who made all the turns.”

“Alright, alright. It doesn’t matter who’s fault it is. Look at us, we’re professional men, starfleet’s finest, and we are just walking in circles while quarrelling like children.” Jim exclaimed.  
“Well… to be fair, our method of working on the Enterprise is quarrelling with each other until we end up working something out somehow.” McCoy said, pursing his lips in thought.  
Jim grinned “Oh yeah. Let’s continue then. As you were!”

Leonard rolled his eyes “Yeah, yeah. Well, we do need to do something and soon. At the very least we need to find some safe place in the street to stay cus it’s getting dark and I sure as hell don’t want to be walking around in the dark in 1930’s America! Have you studied history, Jim? It’s brutal!”

Jim hummed in thought as he looked at their surroundings. Bones was right, it was going to get dark and very soon at that. The sun had already disappeared on the horizon and the sky was lit with the slightly off brightness of dusk. It would become dark rather suddenly rather soon and although both he and Leonard were trained in hand to hand combat and had weapons he’d still rather not cause a scene.

Or hurt anyone unnecessarily. Maybe he’d just been spending too much time with Spock. That thought made a feeling of loss and longing spark within Jim. He frowned in concern for his friend but pushed it aside, the best way to save Spock was to soldier on.

“You’re right, Bones. As always. C’mon, let’s find some decent corner quickly.” Jim wanted to make some sort of joke to lighten the mood but couldn’t think of anything so just started to walk in a random direction, keeping an eye out for an appropriate place to settle. His head spun as he tried to think of all the factors that might impact them. Heat, wind direction, shelter provided, ground material, exposure, there were so many things.

He tried to systematically balance the different spots with their pros and cons to find what’d be best. Damn he wished Spock was there. He needed to hug him next time he saw him and tell him how much he appreciated what he always did, Spock’s inevitable embarrassment at being hugged and complimented be damned. Jim chuckled softly to himself as he imagined the cute shade of green Spock’s ears and cheeks would go. Jim sighed softly. He missed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun. Again with the cliff hangers. I don't even do it on purpose it's literally just a habit by now XD I just want to thank you all for reading, I can't put into words how much it means to me that people read and enjoy my story and it makes my day when I see familiar people commenting all the time, or new. But yeah thanks to all of you for reading! Until next week, byee!


End file.
